


Aftermath

by miniCrisGM



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Body Worship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, Mutual Masturbation, Vanilla, it grows into its rating, set after Tale of Two Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28548573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miniCrisGM/pseuds/miniCrisGM
Summary: You have such a big crush on Stan Pines, owner of the Mystery Shack, but what happens when you find out that he's not who he says he is...?Standalone chapters with a common storyline!
Relationships: Stan Pines/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

“So it was all a lie?”

Your hands trembled. Too many things were going through your mind but none of them made any sense.

_Do you really think I’m a bad guy?_

No, of course you didn’t. You never would have. And yet…

“You’re the author???”, Dipper kept saying, his little hands trembling as he clutched the third diary and looked at the man who’d just appeared out of thin air. A man that looked remarkably like Stanford Pines.

A man who, apparently, actually _was_ Stanford Pines.

“So you’re not Stanford Pines? You’re not the scientist, the expert in anomalies?”

“I can explain”, the man who’d been pretending to be Stanford said, taking a step towards you, but you pulled back and he stopped with a wounded expression.

“What? Stanley, what have you been doing? No, _I’m_ Stanford Pines, he’s my twin brother. And who might you be? Stanley, _why_ are there so many people at what is supposed to be a _secret_ laboratory?”

Stanley. Stanley Pines.

You didn’t know this man. Hell, you strongly suspected —rather, _knew_ — that he was a grifter, a trickster, a conman; one only had to take a look at the Mystery Shack and at the ‘no refunds’ signs everywhere on it to add two and two. But many brilliant scientists had gone awry, tired of the way academia treated them — why couldn’t he be one of them?

“I can explain!”, Stanley repeated, but you shook your head.

“You’ve lied to me. All summer long”.

Enamoured with the work of his that you’d read, you’d travelled to Gravity Falls looking for the famous scientist, expecting to find a stuck-up academic of sorts, but instead you wound up with a charming, bonkers old man who’d tried to sell you postcards and a wobbly-head plastic figurine of a giant dwarf — which, if you had to be honest, looked pretty much like a regular person.

You’d be lying if you said that, after a month in Gravity Falls, you didn’t have a little more than a crush on him.

It had begun slowly. You definitely hadn’t planned to fall in love that summer but somehow you ended up finding yourself unable to take your eyes off Mr. Mystery. It was a bit like seeing a train going off the rails — as terrible as it was fascinating. You managed to convince him to let you lend a helping hand at the Shack, which, considering how much energy Wendy put into her job, was a definite improvement on the place, and you’d spent over three months working back to back with him.

One day he’d begun returning your looks. The first time you thought you’d imagined it, that it was nothing more than a coincidence, but then you caught him staring at you with an enigmatic expression and, as soon as your eyes met, he turned away. Was that a blush? You couldn’t tell or think straight, what with your heart thumping in your ears.

His fingers had brushed yours, accidentally, while cashing out on the register. He’d bumped into you more than once, even though there was more than enough space to walk through behind the counter. He’d laughed at your bad jokes, he’d asked you to stay behind and help him close up the Shack and you two had talked for hours on end…

You fool. You utter fool. You’d read signs where there were none. You’d convinced yourself that a man who didn’t exist may have felt something for you.

“I haven’t lied!”, Stan tried to explain, failing utterly. “I just… haven’t told you the whole truth”.

“I thought…” You choked back a sob. “Goddammit”.

“Wait!”

Stan yelled out your name, but on his lips it now sounded fake. Artificial. Like everything else. You’d had enough.

Your legs began running before you knew it and you darted out of the laboratory and into the night air.

It was warm and moist, not nearly as chilly as you’d have liked it to be. Cars and props were scattered everywhere, a consequence of the upended gravity in the town during the time that the portal had been opened.

“Please, let me explain!”

“Explain what, exactly?” Your disappointment and shame were talking for you, but you couldn’t help it. “How you pretended to be somebody you’re not to trick me? Is that it?”

He didn’t reply and that only incensed you more.

“Oh god, I feel so stupid… I came here looking for a man I admired and you let me make a fool of myself _all summer long_! Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I never supposed to know? Did you even _care_ about me?”

“I did!”

His voice cut through the silence and you stilled. His eyes pleaded at you, even though he didn’t dare take another step for fear he’d scare you away. Stan took a deep breath.

“I did. I do! I care… I care very much about you. That’s exactly why I couldn’t tell you the truth”.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious, toots? I mean… C’mon, you appear out of nowhere, a hot babe that’s also smart and funny _and_ interested in an old fart like me? I’d never… It was the first time that happened to me in my life, ya know? I’ve always been a loser — my father thought so, my mother thought so, hell, even to some level my brother thought so too! I have no studies, no career except lying through my teeth and scamming people. I spent the last thirty years of my life alone here, trying to get my brother back. You’re… You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, toots. And I was scared of losing you”.

Stan fell silent, as if after letting everything go and opening himself to you he’d deflated, like an old balloon, and it was all you could do to muster the strength not to fall down onto the ground.

Thirty years… Thirty years alone, scheming all this up to get his brother back. You hadn’t thought of it that way.

“I was afraid that if you learnt the truth you’d also think I was a loser”, he said, scratching the back of his neck. “And I… I just didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to lose you too. I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say”.

“You were really that concerned about my opinion about you? Why?”

“Hell, toots, d’you really want me to spell it out for you?” Was he blushing? “I suppose I… Well, you… _Aaaaaargh_ , I’m not made for this. I’m so not made for this”.

You heart thumped in your chest and, despite the turmoil within, you allowed yourself to hope again.

“Stan. Stanley? Can I still call you Stan?”

“As far as I know it’s still my name”.

“Stan. You could’ve told me. I wouldn’t have minded, not one bit. I don’t care that you’re not a scientist or that you don’t have a PhD or…”

“Twelve PhDs”.

“Twelve Ph—TWELVE? Jesus Christ. Your brother’s a monster. Anyway, that’s not my point. My point is that you’re good enough. Without all those things, with your Mystery Shack and your fez and your bad jokes…”

“They’re not so bad…”

“And your dreadful sense of propriety and timing and just your general _goodness_. You’re a good person, Stan, no matter how much you insist on proving otherwise. And you’re _good enough_ just as you are”.

Stan raised his eyes at you like he hadn’t dared to do since his brother had appeared through the portal and when your gazes met you felt butterflies in your stomach. You swallowed hard. In the wise words of Alexander Hamilton, you weren’t throwing away your shot.

“Am I?”, he asked, and you took a step towards him.

“Of course you are”. You wanted to melt with how defenseless he looked. How hard must it have been to keep up that façade for three decades? He’d sacrificed everything, he’d even faked his own death, all to get his brother back. “I just wish you hadn’t lied to me, but… I think I understand now. And whether your name is Stanley or Stanford, _you_ are the one that I like, and nothing is gonna change that. Not even an interdimensional portal and a long-lost sibling who coincidentally has your exact same face”.

“Wait, wait, wait. Did you say that you _like me?_ ”

You felt your ears getting red and hot but you didn’t back down.

“I did”.

“Did you hit your head somewhere when the portal opened?”

“I should think not”.

“Okay, okay. But like as in _like_ or as in “like”?

“Right now I’m not certain I could do much worse for how dense you’re being. Stanley Pines! I like you! Very much! Get that into that big head of yours or perish!”

You’d screamed your lungs into the night and if the ghosts in the abandoned mall didn’t you that you had a thing for the owner of the Mystery Shack by now you’d be very surprised.

But it seemed to have worked.

Stan looked at you, his fez lopsided on top of his head, and there was something between utter confusion and sheer joy in his face.

“So I didn’t imagine things? Were you flirting with me? I’m terrible reading signals, you know”.

“Oh boy, tell me about it”. You couldn’t help but smile and chuckle a little and Stan tentatively took your hands in his. He trembled a little, but since you didn’t pull away, neither did he.

“So does this mean I can kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask”.

Stan smiled so broadly you thought his face would break in two and then he leaned into you and gently kissed you.

You’d imagined this moment so many times in your head that you couldn’t believe it was actually happening. You’d pictured Stan to be like a human tornado, with all his boasting, but instead he was… tender. Tremulous, even.

His stubble scratched against your face, making you chuckle, and you kissed him back.

You wanted this and he could sense it, and it was probably that feeling than encouraged him to out his arms around your waist and bring him against him. You placed your hands on his chest and let him take over.

His doubts soon turned to eagerness.

Before you knew it, he’d pinned you against the wall of the Mystery Shack. You back bore into the splintering wood, but you couldn’t have cared less. Stan Pines hands were all over your body and you couldn’t get enough of it. You grabbed his hair, knocking over his fez, and Stan kissed you with even more fierceness. He pushed against you, lifting your right leg to the height of his hip, and you began to feel a certain kind of warmth between your legs. Stan wasn’t unaffected either; a bulge had been growing inside his pants and the more he pressed himself against you, the more turned on you both became.

“This is escalating quickly”, you grinned when he gave you time to regain your breath.

“I’m making up for lost time, can you blame me?”, he grinned back.

“Certainly not”, you said and kissed him back while slowly lowering your hands towards his tush.

“ _EW! GROSS!_ ”

You and Stan turned as if you’d been struck by lightning, only to find Dipper and Mabel running around with their hands on their eyes.

“Can’t! Unsee!”, yelled Dipper.

“Stanley! What are you doing?” Ford appeared behind the kids, looking equally appalled. “There are children present!”

“Only because you brought them along!” You realised your leg was still wrapped around Stan’s hip and blushed furiously. “Kids, inside, now!”

“Maybe we should continue this some other time?”, you asked when you were alone again.

“Oh! Oh… Sorry! Yeah, sorry, I got kinda carried away and…”

“Don’t take it the wrong way!” You waved your hands about, seeing a sudden deep disappointment in Stan’s eyes. “I mean, it was… It was really great, you know”.

“Did’ya like it? For real?” He opened his eyes wide, as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Yeah! Of course. And I’d love to, you know, carry on. With this and… well, everything”.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too”. Stan smiled and you had to hold back not to kiss him again. “Say, whaddaya say we start over? No more lies. Like this: hi there, my name is Stanley Pines”.

He held out a hand to you. A clean start. You smiled. Yes, you could do that.

“Lovely to meet you, Stanley”, you said, shaking his hand.

“I’ve been looking for somebody to help me around the Mystery Shack. Would you like to stay?”

And you could feel just how much hung from that question.

“Yes”, you said, smiling and squeezing his hand. “Yes, I’d like that very much”.


	2. Chapter 2

“A party?”

“Yes! A party!”, chanted Mabel, sparkles dancing in her eyes like one of those _shoujo_ manga from the sixties. “The dancefloor is a magical glittery space where _anything_ is possible. It’s our last day in Gravity Falls before we go back home this summer! We have to go out with a bang! Come on! Don’t you have any sense of _summer romance?_ ”

You shot a sideways glace to Stan, who was busy counting the cash that had departed the pockets of its previous owners and now lined his own. You didn’t exactly imagine him being the type to have a torrid Dirty Dancing-style affair in a teenage party. But at the same time there was nothing you wanted more than to dance with him.

Ever since his brother Ford had returned and you two had made up, your relationship had been… weird. Not strained, at all, but you hadn’t found the right time to talk about where you were headed and what exactly you two were. You’d kissed again, more than once, and since you’d kept working at the Shack, your fingers had kept brushing “accidentally” and your eyes meeting when he wasn’t entertaining customers, but you hadn’t gone any further than that.

You wondered what was stopping him. Was it you? Was he having second thoughts? You wanted very badly to be with him, but at the same time you were afraid to push him. But also, hell, you wanted to get laid. Maybe this party would be the perfect occasion to finally get Stan to take that final step. 

“How many people are we talking about?”, he said, mentally calculating how much money he could make out of it. “Kids? Any parents? Any parents with lawyers?”

“Relax, Grunkle Stan!”, replied Mabel, her mind already spinning down a rabbit hole of preparations. “It’ll be just a few friends. To say goodbye for the summer”.

“You are aware that if you invite Pacifica, she’ll bring along half the town”, Dipper said.

“Why would I ever what to invite Pacifica? Ew! Who would do that?”

Dipper went so red you could’ve sworn he glowed.

“I… Uh… I might have…”

“ _Whaaaaaaaaaaat??_ You invited Pacifica to the party? Oh my god, Dipper, are you _in looooove?_ ”

As the two teenagers chased each other around the room, with Mabel clearly taking the lead on Dipper, you shot a glance at Mr. Mystery. Stan shrugged and went back to counting banknotes.

“A party’s always good for business. I can charge for entry _and_ exit. Win-win situation for me”.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic”.

“Should I be?”

“Dunno. Don’t you like parties? I thought the antisocial nerd was your brother”.

Stan chuckled.

“Listen, kid, I’ve been at a few parties in my time. I danced like _nobody_ , okay? I smashed that dancefloor. But that’s in the past. One good thing about parties even now though — plenty of alcohol”.

“Are you a sad drunk or a happy drunk?”

“I’m the _ultimate_ drunk”.

You laughed, imagining Stan taking his Stan-ness to its final consequences after downing half the beer in the party. That would be a worthy show.

“Will I get to see that?”

“Maybe you will”.

“Maybe I will. But that’s a shame. I love dancing”.

Stan Shot you a glance, leaned on the counter and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you now”.

“See you tonight, Stan”, you smiled and left. By God you’d make this man dance with you if it was the last thing you’d ever do.

…

“Come on, Dipper! I’m almost family!”

“Sorry, but the rules are the rules”, the kid said, stretching out his hand. You grunted and opened your purse to take out $15. You were gonna make Stan pay you back for that entrance fee tenfold. Cheeky bastard.

The party was very Gravity Falls-esque. There was food, drink and a rather large disco ball that made coloured light glitter everywhere. For some reason Stan had decided that Soos would be DJing, either the best or the worst decision ever, you still had to find out. He was giving it his all, though, you had to admit, and his enthusiasm was contagious because you soon found yourself dancing to the rhythm and looking around for Stan.

“Oh hey! You came!”

Mable ran up to you followed by Candy and Grenda. Honestly, they were a charming group and you’d miss seeing them run around Gravity Falls together once the school year began.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world”.

“I’ve prepared a special music mix”, said Mabel, winking at you. “With BABBA’s most _romaaaantic_ singles. They’re Dipper’s favourites”.

“What are you plotting, Mabel?”

“ _Me?_ Nothing! Oh look, here comes Pacifica! Places, people!”

The three girls scattered off into the dancefloor and you mentally prayed for Dipper. But, all things considered, he did make a rather cute couple with the blond girl. Very fanfic-like.

“So can I throw a party or what?”

A gruff voice that you knew very well spoke from behind you and you turned and gaped.

Stan, with that shit-eating grin of his plastered on his face, was shaking around to the rhythm of the music. You wanted to have half that man’s self-confidence. He was still wearing his fez, but he’d swapped his Mr. Mystery garb for something more relaxed: bell-bottoms and a white shirt only half buttoned up, revealing his inseparable gold chain and a good amount of silver chest hair.

You had no idea why you found that old man so attractive but damn if that shirt and smile didn’t make you feel _things_.

You felt your cheeks heating up and Stan’s grin widened when he saw your reaction.

“Like what you see, babes?”

“Clearly, _these_ goods are not past their expiry date yet”.

Stan let out a hearty laugh and spun you around.

“You said you like to dance, yes?”

“Are you gonna take some time off the booze to humour me?”

“I think it’s a worthy sacrifice”, he replied, kissing you on the cheek, and leading you by the arm, he took you to the dancefloor.

Soos started to play some sort of electronic music and Stan soon discovered that you’d only said that you _loved_ music, not that you were any good at it. In fact, you were less than good. In fact, you were _abysmal._

But you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even care.

You danced robotically, arrhythmically, out of sync with the music, but you were happy. You laughed, you moved your body around, you gave it your all and Stan Pines kept up with you every step of the way. You had to admit, he was a mean dancer.

“You’re really bad at this!”, he laughed.

“I know!”

You danced until your feet ached and barely noticed when Soos changed the tune to a slow-paced song. Stan took you by the waist and pressed you against him and for a split second you believed you were the main character of a Hollywood movie.

Then you saw Mabel shoving Dipper towards an unsuspecting Pacifica and couldn’t help chuckling.

“You do a mean job at leading”, you told Stan, leaning against the crook of his neck.

“I’ll take that as a compliment”, he said. “Hey, you… You look amazing tonight, by the way”.

You blushed. You’d made an effort, hoping he’d notice, and he had.

“Thanks. You too”.

“Really? Your eyes have been kind of avoiding me all night. Everything alright?”

“Come on, Stan”. You looked up at him with a wicked grin. “This party is full of kids. I can’t be _leering_ at you all night”.

“Leering, you say?”

“You look very sexy tonight, Stan”.

“Do I now?”, he laughed, but then he saw you weren’t joking. “Wait, you mean it? Seriously?”

“Yes!”, you said as the music continued around you. “Of course I do! Come on, the shirt, the cleavage… It’s taking me all my self-control not to jump you right now”.

You’d tried to sound as sensual as possible, but to your horror Stan paled. Shit. Had you been too forward? Too fast?

“Geez, toots, I… I don’t know what to say… I just wasn’t expecting that”.

Neither were you. You looked up at him, losing a bit of the music’s rhythm, and wrinkled your nose.

“You didn’t? You must have. We’ve been messing around for weeks. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve kissed, Stan. It doubt it comes as a surprise to you that I like you”.

“I knew that you _liked_ me, kid, but I didn’t think that you… Well, that you wanted to take it that far”.

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because…” He looked around, suddenly overly conscious of the kids and teenagers that surrounded you, and he drew you to one of the corners of the room. “Because I’m old and fat and honestly not that good-looking. Why would you want to go any further with an old fart like me? I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you”.

You stared at him as if he’d just gutted a kitten in front of you. You were outraged at how he’d just badmouthed the man you loved, that was, _himself_.

“I’d rather use the term ‘silver-fox’, thank you very much. And speak for yourself, Mr. Pines. As if you could _ever_ disappoint me. I find you very attractive. Very. I give it to you that it may be an… _unconventional_ choice, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. It’s not all about the looks, is it? I love you, Stanley Pines. The whole package”.

“You do?”

He peeked up at you, as if he were afraid, and you smiled softly and kissed him.

“I do. Very much”.

Stan kissed you back, his arms encircling your waist, and soon the kiss became deeper and more entangled than before. You could feel his warmth and his heartbeat through his shirt and his fingers dug into your back. Stan pushed you against the wall and kept on kissing you. He left your mouth, eliciting a groan from you, and his lips began to travel down your neck. His gold chain felt cold against the skin of your own cleavage, but you didn’t mind. You were too busy concentrating on Stan’s hands roaming through your body.

“I couldn’t take my eyes of you when you walked through that door”, he whispered, breathing against your neck. Goosebumps prickled through your skin. That gruff voice made you feel _things_. “I want you so much”.

“I want you too, Stan”, you said, and Stan caught your mouth with his once more.

You felt the urgency in his actions, in his kiss, and especially in the section of his groin that was quickly reacting to your proximity.

“I don’t think I’ve ever given you a tour of the top floors”, he said, grinning, and you returned the gesture.

“I don’t think you have”.

Almost gliding, feeling as if your feet didn’t touch the ground, Stan took your hand and guided you upstairs. As soon as you were out of sight of the partygoers, he kissed you again, with a fierce crescendo that brought your lips together every few steps. You laughed and kissed him back, and you both fumbled through the corridor until Stan opened a door and pushed you inside.

The room, which had a sloped ceiling, wasn’t too big, with just a few necessary things for daily life – and neither was the bed.

“Do you think there’s space here for both of us, Mr. Pines?”

“I guess we’ll have to lie _very_ close together”.

You chuckled wickedly and Stan pushed you down onto the bed, kissing you, as your hands searched blindly for the buttons in his shirt.

Suddenly Stan pulled away from you and looked slightly anguished. The sight of him atop you, straddling you, his chest peeking out of his shirt, made you core twist in excitement.

“You okay, Stan?”, you asked, seeing him stopping like a deer in headlights.

“Are you sure of this?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life”.

Stan’s face changed from one of distress to a gentle calmness, and the smile that appeared on his lips told you all you needed to know about the man. Hell, you really did love him.

“Neither have I”.

He pressed down against you, legs on both sides of your hips, and when his tongue touched yours you felt an explosion of desire rupture through you. He knew what he was doing as his hands slowly moved down from your neck to your breasts and belly, and when he began tracing the shape of your nipples with his fingers, you twitched in anticipation.

“I haven’t done this in thirty years, so excuse me if I’m a bit rusty”.

He drew his tongue down your neck and then gently bit on your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and you couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Don’t use false modesty on me”, you groaned. “If this is rusty, I can’t imagine what you must be like on a good day”.

“I can’t wait for you to find out”.

And find out you did. His mouth returned to yours as one of his hands dug into your hair, caressing it as if it were a mantle of silk, while the other slipped inside your shirt and began stroking your breasts.

You moaned in his ear and Stan’s whole body trembled against you. You could feel him hard already, almost as much as you were wet for him, warmth pooling between your legs. The gold chain clinked, as if luring you to finish the job you’d left unfinished before, and you all but ripped apart the poor buttons that still remained on Stan’s shirt. He stood over you, a well sculpted chest full of fuzzy silver hair and two muscular arms that still bore witness to his boxing days. He’d lost his glasses somewhere in the process and your gazes met, nothing between them now.

You wanted to fuck him so bad.

“Woah there, tiger”, he chuckled. “A little eager, are you?”

“With such a sexy beast, who could blame me?”, you replied, smiling, and rose your hand to his crotch.

His erection pushed against his trousers and you moved your hand up and down its length, eliciting a deep groan from him. Stan buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it softly, while your hands worked on him.

You caressed him, stroking your hand against his crotch and his thighs, and, when Stan’s body began to tremble with tension, slid it inside his pants. You found his cock rock-hard and warm against your touch and when you wrapped your hand around it Stan moaned with pleasure. He looked up into your eyes and arousal engulfed you. Even his gaze made you hot, those beautiful honest eyes, that meek stare that he’d shown so very few people.

“I love you”, you blurted out and blushed, but Stan smiled.

“Love you too, babe”.

He leaned down to kiss you and, as he did so, his hand left your breasts and began prowling lower, until they reached your own crotch and slid inside your trousers. You could’ve come just from the touch of his fingers along your slit.

It was a strange dance, you touching him, him caressing you, but it was all you needed. You didn’t want anything else as your arousal peaked and you panted into his chest, grabbing his back with your free hand and feeling how he throbbed against the one that was giving him so much pleasure. And oh gods, he knew what to do with his fingers.

He began slow, very gently stroking your thighs and the wetness around your slit, and when he slid in the first digit you clenched your muscles in pleasure. He knew how to hit all the right points and you wanted _more_.

“You alright, toots?”, he asked. “Are you liking it?”

“I am”, you breathed, increasing the speed on his member, and Stan groaned too.

You kissed him, almost biting his lips with eagerness, and Stan slipped in a second digit. He moved his fingers inside you, driving you crazy. But still you wanted more.

“I want you inside me, Stan”, you moaned, and the man stared at you, eyes sparkling with desire.

“You’re going to drive me crazy, babe”.

Clothes were ripped and tossed aside with enough energy that whoever came into the room after you would’ve thought that the Manotaurs had attacked, and even though it was one of your favourite shirts, at the time your mind was taken over by Stan Pines, naked over you and looking at you as if you were a meal about to be devoured.

“Hell, you’re sexy”.

“You’re one to speak”.

“Condom?”

“Got one”, he replied, holding it up as a sort of trophy. You cocked an eyebrow.

“Wow, you sure were prepared”.

“Being insecure is one thing. Missing a golden chance is another”.

You laughed and Stan grinned. Cheeky bastard indeed. He placed himself between your legs and began kissing you under your navel, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts and your lips. When his tongue trailed over your nipples your back arched into his touch and took his face to kiss him hungrily.

“I want you”, you said, and Stan obliged.

When he first entered you, the tenderness with which he did it melted you. He was being so careful that you were comfortable and that you were enjoying it too, you wanted to kiss him until your lips bled.

It was a strange but wonderful sensation, feeling him inside you, filling you up, your muscles tightening around his cock, and Stan moaned as he entered you. You buried your fingers in his hair and kissed him, and Stan began to move, slowly at first, but as soon as he heard you panting his speed increased and his thrusts made you see stars.

Every time your back arched, he picked you up, his big hands roaming all over your skin. You could feel every fingertip, every callus, every bit of your skin that flared up when he touched it.

With every thrust, his cock rubbed against your clit, sending spasms of pleasure through your body, and you felt your orgasm building up in your core, climbing all the way up until you came, almost at the same time as Stan, with his name on your lips.

You both toppled down onto the bed, sweaty and panting, and Stan kissed you again, laughing lightly. He was smiling from ear to ear, to brightly you thought you’d go blind.

“That was so good”.

“Did you like it?”

“Yer kidding? I haven’t had that much fun in thirty years!”

You chuckled.

“I look forward to see what you can do when you’re not rusty, Mr. Mystery”.

Stan cocked an eyebrow and looked up at you with a roguish grin.

“Wait and see, sweetheart”, he said and kissed you again, ready for another round.

…

“By the way, you owe me fifteen bucks”.

“What!? Why?”

“Dipper charged me an entrance fee. Suppose sleeping with the boss should win me a few perks?”

“Then Dipper owes you fifteen bucks. Go work it out with him”.

“Boo. You exploiter”.

Stan let out a hearty laugh and brought you closer to him. His arm was draped over your shoulders and you rested your cheek on his chest. His chest hair tickled your nose and you began playing with it, wrapping it around your finger. You hadn’t felt this good in a very long time. You were, simply put, happy.

It didn’t take long for you to drift into sleep, even though the noise of the party downstairs lasted well into the early morning. Stan looked at your sleeping countenance and smiled. He was determined to hold you tight through the night and, if you let him, for the rest of his life.

That night, Stanley Pines went to sleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I've decided to write a third chapter, a sort of Christmas special! Stan and Reader snowed in inside the Shack, cuteness ensues. Stay tuned!


	3. Chapter 3

“Had you really never seen a snowfall?”

“Not like this one! I’ve lived in California all my life, Stan. The only white falling dust we get over there is dandruff”.

“Ew. Disgusting”.

You’d been stuck to the window all day, eyes wide in child-like amazement. When it had begun snowing, early in the morning, and you’d walked up to the Shack to open it up for the day, you’d enjoyed the little snowflakes that gathered around you, but you hadn’t thought it would last.

You’d been wrong.

Stan had decided to close shop once it became obvious that the weather was just going to keep getting worse. Neither of you were very keen of ending up snowed in with a bunch of tourists, so Stan shooed all the visitors away and the Shack closed its doors unexpectedly early while you stared outside, gazing in wonder at the white carpet that covered the grass.

You hadn’t offered to go home and Stan hadn’t told you to.

The snow fell all through the day. There wasn’t a storm: it was just a continuous dribble of white flakes dropping from the sky as everything in Gravity Falls went silent and still.

It would be impossible for cars to drive with that much snow, you thought. Or for people to walk without slipping and breaking their backs. You suddenly realised that you’d definitely not be able to go home any time soon unless the snow thawed.

“Hey, Stan?”

“Hm?”

“How long d’you think the snow will last for?”

“With this much?” He whistled. “At least a day or two, and that’s only if it stops snowing today. We’ll be lucky if we manage to reopen by the weekend”.

“So does that mean we’re snowed in?”

“It certainly does”. His voice purred behind you as two strong arms closed around your waist and pushed you against him. Stan kissed your neck and chuckled lightly. “Just you and me, babes”.

“Oh well”, you said, feigning surrender. “I suppose I _must_ endure it”.

You turned to kiss him and his lips felt all the warmer for how cold you’d ended up being so close to the window. Stan stared at you, his arms wrapping around you all the more tightly, and you thought you’d melt. Unlike the snow.

A massive piece of snow fell from the Shack’s roof with a thump that shook the whole place and you and Stan held onto each other for dear life.

Stan groaned and let go.

“This bloody weather is going to cost me a fortune! First it forced me to close the Shack, now it’s cracking my roof!”

“Should we go lighten the load?”, you suggested, seeing how much snow was going to pile up on the roof. “It’s not like the Shack is the sturdiest building ever”.

“D’you have any complaints?”

“You could ask Ford for the money for repairs. It’s also his house, after all”. Stanford had left for a few weeks and was currently in Chicago presenting a paper on the long-term effects of lunar-caused alopecia in werepeople. You were not-so-secretly glad that he’d left you and Stan alone in the Shack – especially with the snow. “In any case, I’m going up to the roof to shovel some snow. I’d rather not risk having Mabel and Dipper’s room cave in”.

“Wait, I’ll go with you”.

It seemed a better idea when you were warm in the living room, slightly less so once you actually got outside. It was _freezing_ and the snow fell slowly but surely; you hadn’t been out on the roof for five minutes before you felt your head and shoulders begin to be covered with a sleek white layer of snow.

“C’mon, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we’ll be able to get back to the sofa and the fireplace!”, said Stan, coming out after you, wrapped in a great brown parka and several scarves.

That sounded like an amazing idea. You began shoveling, throwing loads of snow from the thatched roof of the Shack onto the porch, lightening the load of the building, and hoped that it would all hold through the night.

The cold soon began to set in and you started to feel your fingers go numb, then your arms and then your whole body. If anybody chopped you up with an axe right now, you doubted you’d notice. The snowfall quickened and a wind that threatened to throw you off your precarious roof balcony began to blow.

“I think we’re done here!”, shouted Stan, trying to make himself heard over the blizzard. “Let’s go inside!”

“I agree!”

Walking back into the Shack, down to the fireplace that crackled in front of the sofa, was like walking into paradise. You peeled off all the snow-sodden coats, scarves and gloves that you’d been wearing and huddled next to the fire, but you couldn’t help shivering. Your teeth chattered.

“Here, this’ll help”, said Stan, handing you a steaming cup of instant coffee he’d just whipped up in the kitchen. It was terrible coffee, the cheapest he could find in the village, but you downed it like it was heavenly ambrosia.

“I’d never seen snow like this”, you said, shivers raking your body.

“Neither have I. Even climate change is weird in Gravity Falls”, he laughed. “Hey, toots, you okay?”

“Yeah, just… just a bit cold”.

“A bit?” He took his hands in yours and looked at you, startled. “Babe, you’re frozen! I could chill beers with these hands. Come closer to the fire”.

Your cheeks heated up. No matter for how long you and Stan had been intimate, no matter how long you’d been a couple in everything but name, you felt like you’d never get used to his proximity. Every time your hands touched, every time his arms wrapped around you or his stubble scraped against your skin, your heart began beating as if it wanted to leap out of your chest.

You loved that feeling so much and hoped never to lose it.

You and Stan huddled together near the fire, each with a warm cup of terrible coffee in your hands. You took another sip. It was still absolutely awful, but the company made it so much better.

Nobody said a word. There was a sort of magic of being inside, near a fire, during a snowstorm. The wind wailed outside as the snow kept falling. You were completely separated from the world, in a bubble of your very own.

You leaned against Stan, propping your head against his shoulder.

“How are yer hands?”, he asked. His voice was unusually quiet today.

“Better. I can even begin to feel my fingers!”

“We won’t need to amputate then?”

You laughed, but somehow you wouldn’t be surprised if Stan had a complete surgical kit for amputations somewhere around the Shack.

“This is nice”, you said.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is”.

Another silence. His body felt strong and sturdy against you; despite his years and the placid life he led at the Shack, his boxer past wasn’t lost on him. He was warm, even through the blanket, and he made you feel safe. Not many people would agree, but being snowed out in the Shack with him was the best thing that could’ve happened to you.

“Jesus, babes, you’re still shivering! C’me here”, he said, draping his arm over your shoulders. You nestled into him. He smelled of sweat but also of pines. You couldn’t help but giggle at the irony. “What?”

You shook your head.

“I’m just comfortable”.

The fire crackled before you and Stan turned his face towards you. The light of the flames played tricks on his eyes and they shone with a colour that you found beautiful. You stared at each other as time stopped briefly and then Stan leaned down and kissed you.

You hadn’t realised how much you’d wanted him to do just that until his lips touched yours. You melted into him as Stan took your cheeks in his hands and kissed you so deeply you thought you’d lose yourself in him. Your own hands fumbled for him and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The empty coffee mugs fell to the side, discarded and forgotten, and for a split second you thought you’d lose your balance and fall down, but Stan’s hands expertly roamed down to your back and hips and he lowered you down towards the floor until he towered over you. Your breath hitched.

You were shivering, but it wasn’t entirely due to the cold now.

“You wanna?”

“Yes”, you said, swallowing. He was an imposing figure.

When he smiled your heart skipped a beat and you raised your head to kiss him. It was tender, slow, but you felt your whole body tense in excitement as he slipped a hand under you to hold your back. His free hand began caressing your hair, gently tracing the shape of your nose and jaw, and you let him bask in your warmth.

His mouth slowly began to trail down and when he traced the shape of your nipples, already rock hard from the cold, over your shirt, you couldn’t hold back a moan. He grinned.

“You should to that more often”.

“You’ll have to earn it”, you grinned back.

“Ah, a challenge. I like those”.

As your pants were suddenly unzipped and chucked aside, you wondered whether it had been a wise move, but when Stan kissed your inner thighs and began caressing your already wet underwear, you _knew_ it had been.

“It seems the cold hasn’t reached here”, he said, moving his index finger up and down your slit. The graze of your underwear against you made electricity course through your body.

“Are you doubling as a firefighter now, Pines? Come to put out a few fires?”

“You know, dirty talk isn’t really your forte”.

“The pot calling the kettle black”.

Stan laughed heartly and he kissed your thighs again, but this time he didn’t settle for your underwear.

His fingers slipped inside it and you moaned as he entered you.

It was just a finger at first, while he manouvered to chuck the damned piece of fabric aside, and he then moved it up and down, tracing the shape of you, drawing circles around your taut clit, and you buried your hands in his hair, completely dishevelling him and pushing him deeper into you.

He went deeper gladly.

He knew you so well already that his tongue touch all the right spots. Pleasure coursed through your body as he entered you and played with you. Your hips bucked, wanting to feel him, but he wouldn’t be hurried. His motions, changing spot from time to time, were leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world to draw pleasure out of you one bit at a time.

And that he did.

You felt release build up within you, crawling all the way up from your gut to your spine, but Stan refused to let you go just yet. He was having too much fun playing with you, seeing you squirm and hearing you moan. Your hips buckled again with one particularly sensitive touch of his tongue and you bit your lip.

“Feeling good, toots?” His voice was gruffier than usual; you could tell he was as aroused as you.

“Stan…” You barely managed to groan his name. “I think I going to come soon”.

“Then come for me”, he whispered, and you did.

Release hit you in waves and your back arched against Stan, you held you until you’d ridden your orgasm and managed to regain some breath.

You let yourself fall against the wooden planks of the floor, panting, as Stan leaned by your side on his elbow. The fire, undisturbed, kept crackling and the snow outside still piled on the front porch.

“That was… amazing”, you whistled. Your naked chest was glistening with sweat, but still you trembled when Stan traced the shape of your breasts with his finger.

“Didja like it?”

“What do you think?”

Stan laughed again and you smiled. Best sound in the world.

“But you know”, you added, tugging at the stupid shirt that he was still somehow wearing, “I’m not entirely worn out yet”.

“Aren’t you, now?”, he replied, cocking an eyebrow, and you straddled him while putting your lips to his.

Clothes flew and tongues entwined as you ground against him. He was already rock hard, as you expected, and when he entered you it was as if slipping on a glove that fit perfectly. You both groaned as you rocked your body atop his and Stan ate you up with his eyes.

“You’re beautiful”.

You smiled and kissed him again.

The Shack was silent, with only its wooden beams creaking discreetly, as you and Stan ground against each other, your moans the only thing breaking the silence, and when you both came, release hitting you almost at the same time, you lay in front of the fireplace for a while, without saying a word.

“So all in all”, you said, finally, “the snow wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Yer kidding?”, Stan blurted. “I don’t even want to think about how much money I’ve lost!”

You cocked an eyebrow and pursed your lips.

“What?”

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m in love with you”.

“Ah, but you are! Joke’s on you! More coffee?”, he laughed, getting up and heading for the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes and smiled.

“Joke’s on me indeed”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I hope you've enjoyed it! Please comment if you've liked the story, I love reading your thoughts! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I love Stanley Pines so much...  
> Next chapter will have more spiciness! Promised!


End file.
